


Recess

by GettheSalt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sex in a courthouse, futureverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/GettheSalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel visits Sam at work. Set in the futureverse, wherein Sam has completed his law degree and is working as a defense attorney, particularly for hunters. Porn with minimal plot, you have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recess

Sam could swear that Gabriel had a whole second set of senses for this sort of thing. Somehow, he knew, he always knew. Sam didn’t complain, normally, and wouldn’t be complaining right now, if it wasn’t for the fact that this particular moment was the least appropriate moment that Sam himself could think of (right now) for Gabriel to show up, ready and willing. Right now, before the court returned from recess, when Sam was trying to focus better on his winning strategy to get Greg Holyps off his murder charge (and he hadn’t done it, just been left in the wrong place at the wrong time by the vampire he’d been hunting), was probably only slightly better than in five minutes when he’d be back in there, ‘doing his lawman thing’, as Dean called it. This case was turning out a little harder to win than he was used to, what with the way the prosecution lawyer was a complete bag of dicks, and kept objecting to him, which, of course, held up the proceedings while the judge indulged him.

Sam was good at his job, very good. He hadn’t expected it to come this easily, once they had finally settled down and settled in and he’d gone ahead, at Dean’s urging, and finished his degree. He hadn’t expected that the hunting community would be as open to accepting his help as the everyday civilian. He didn’t expect a whole lot of this, being fully honest. Not that he’s complaining, he would never complain. They still hunt, they still do the hunter thing, they’re just more… balanced, now. What with homes and legitimate businesses (Dean picked up more from Ellen than Sam had realised, with the way his bar’s been running for a few years now).

As good at his job as Sam knew he was, however, he knew for a fact that no judge, not even one like Myers in there, who loved him to death, was going to pardon him for being late returning from recess because he’d had a booty call. That was exactly what Gabriel was here for, if the smirk on his archangel lover’s face was anything to go by, and the fact that he seemed to have made it a personal mission to make himself as alluring to Sam as physically possible. Instead of the normal layers that they were all prone to wearing, he was only wearing his tennis sneakers, jeans, and one of Sam’s shirts – one of Gabriel’s personal favourites even, a gold and blue plaid number – and that was it. No jacket, just that, and from what Sam could see in the V of his chest that was exposed over the buttons, no undershirt either.

He wasn’t making this easy on Sam. More than likely his sixth sense for when Sam was entertaining fantasies in the back of his mind had gone off, and he’d zipped himself right over to the courthouse, fully intending to make good on the mild swirl of lust that had flitted into Sam’s belly. He’d been sitting in the hall, innocently enough, rotating his wrist to swish the last of his coffee around in its foam cup, when his mind had wandered back to two nights before. Maybe he’d let his mind linger more than was strictly necessary, but, he figured, he was a guy and couldn’t be faulted for thinking about it. That was all he had planned to do. Maybe carry it with him to when he got home, and then corner Gabriel in the bedroom and make the tight curl of his libido useful. Either way, he hadn’t intended for it to even follow him back into the courtroom.

That was, until he’d felt that niggling in the back of his mind and looked up to see Gabriel sauntering around the corner, smirking right at him like he knew what a little shit he was being. More like, he definitely knew what a little shit he was being, coming here to see Sam while he knew Sam was working. He probably didn’t know that his timing was absolute crap and that Sam had to be back at the position of defence in five minutes, not even leaving them enough time for a decent quickie, but even so. He knew full well that he was pushing his allowances, and he was still sidestepping other courthouse workers, on a beeline to Sam, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans.

Even more, he knew what he was doing when it came to making this hard for Sam. He’d clearly taken a second to think over what he was about to try and plan accordingly. He knew what it did to Sam to see him wearing Sam’s clothes – his shirts, really. The tight clench in his gut and his chest, tugs of want and lust and love and adoration all tied up together under the idea that this was his Gabriel wearing his clothes, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. The way the shirt was barely staying on him, and hanging low over his hips, low enough that he really could – and had – walk around wearing just the shirt and be semi-decent was just short of making Sam’s head spin. Gabriel knew it, too. He made a habit of laughing and burying his fingers in Sam’s hair, scratching lightly against his scalp when Sam nosed his way under the loose collar of his shirt, ignoring that he was being cooed over for being so easily turned on by clothes.

So, he knew precisely what he was doing, what he was causing in Sam’s head, and didn’t even blink when Sam growled at him, sprawling himself onto the bench next to the Winchester.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?”

Gabriel shrugged one shoulder, the collar of the shirt slipping lower with the movement, exposing more of his collarbone. “I don’t know, kiddo, what am I doing here? I could hear you loud as day. You really, really enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

Sam ignored the heat he could feel pricking the tips of his ears, continuing to glare at the archangel’s profile. “That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to just come waltzing in here. I have to go back into the courtroom in three minutes anyway, we don’t have time for anything.”

Clearly those were the wrong words to use, if the way Gabriel’s smirk grew said anything.

“So, what you’re saying, is if we had time for anything, something would be happening?”

Sam glanced around at the hallway, making sure no one was really listening to them, before leaning closer and speaking in a low hiss. “What the hell do you think? You come in here looking like that, you know what I was thinking about. If I didn’t have a job to do and a reputation to uphold, a lot of something would be happening.”

Gabriel leaned forward then and there, fisting Sam’s jacket in his hands, pressing their mouths together and took advantage of Sam’s open mouthed surprise, swiping his tongue into the other’s mouth, coaxing him into the kiss without argument. It was quick and messy, and seconds later when Gabriel drew back, smirk back in place, Sam nearly forgot where they were. Nearly. He was on his feet a half second later, straightening his jacket and glaring. “Gabriel, what the hell was that?”

Instead of answering in plain words, Gabriel pointed at the large, ornate clock mounted on the wall behind Sam. It took a second for it to click, and it wasn’t the clock that did. It had definitely stopped working. It was the people in the hall. They’d stopped breathing, moving, looking around; just clear stopped doing much of anything but being frozen and statuesque. Stuck in time.

“So,” Gabriel spoke, drawing Sam’s attention back to him. “We have time…” He picked himself up off the bench, moving into Sam’s space again, crowding up around him, arms crossed over his chest. “All the time you need to work out that pesky little knot in your libido.”

Sometimes, and only sometimes, Sam felt bad that he had ended up so perfectly privileged with a lover who catered to his every sexual hunger, even if that was mostly because Sam’s sexual hungers were part and parcel his own. Now, for a fleeting second, was one of those times.

That passed, though, and left him grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking Gabriel in and up, crushing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Gabriel let out a noise somewhere between a contented moan and a laugh, uncrossing his arms to reach his hands up, one curling in the hair at the base of Sam’s neck, the other rubbing pathless over his chest, waiting for the flinch. Sam felt Gabriel’s lips curve against his in a satisfied smile when he did flinch, having expected the rub of the archangel’s fingers over his nipple, that very clearly having been what he was going for. Now, their lips parting only to meet in a dirtier kiss, Gabriel made good use of the sensitive nub, even through the material of Sam’s dress shirt and undershirt, rubbing the pad of his thumb over it in slow circles while he licked his way into Sam’s mouth.

Sam groaned, shifting his legs, pressing his thigh between Gabriel’s spread knees, pressing up just enough to offer pressure. Gabriel responded quickly, groaning back into Sam’s mouth, rocking his hips down and forward against the Winchester’s muscled thigh, the bulge in his jeans evident with each press. There was really no going back from this, at all. Sam pulled back from the kiss, swiping his tongue over his own lower lip, marvelling at the way Gabriel’s had plumped up, rosy and kiss swollen, curving as he smiled up at Sam, golden eyes dark and half lidded.

“How do you want me, Mr Attorney?”

Sam took a second to glance around the hall before it struck him. On the hall opposite them there was a low counter with a few pens clipped to it and a trio of chairs seated in front of it, for the convenience of filling out last minute paperwork or jotting down ideas during recesses or between cases. His mind’s eye was suddenly full of images of Gabriel on his knees on that counter, back arched, pressing back into Sam—Decision made. Gabriel seemed to have followed his thoughts exactly, because he was wrapping Sam’s tie in his hand and tugging it like a leash, pulling him towards the counter, his other hand deftly flicking open the buttons of his borrowed shirt.

“You know, I love when you get all possessive like this, Sammy,” he remarked, pressing himself back and up onto the counter, watching while Sam shoved the nearest chairs away. He let Sam push between his legs, pressing him back against the wall, big hands pushing the open front of his shirt over Gabriel’s shoulders, pressed forehead to forehead. Gabriel released his hold on Sam’s tie and shrugged his shoulders, letting the shirt slip completely off, then looped his arms around Sam’s shoulders, legs around his waist, and pulled himself forward, pressing their hips together, rocking up into Sam with a shaky, mischievous grin. “Look how bad you want it, damn.”

Sam reached a hand between them, dragging his teeth over his lower lip, searching out the button Gabriel’s jeans, pinching and thumbing it open with only a certain amount of difficulty as Gabriel continued the slow rock up against him. They really were getting good at this. “I’m not the only one who wants it bad, Gabriel.”

He was met with a breathy laugh as Gabriel settled back on the counter. “No, you’re not, but can you blame me?” Gabriel asked, dropping a hand unceremoniously to palm Sam through his dress pants, humming appreciatively as Sam’s forehead dropped to rest on his shoulder and he pushed forward into the tease of Gabriel’s hand. “I mean, how can I not want this bad?” He went on, dragging the heel of his palm down the length of Sam’s hardness. “I know you’re aching to get in me, Sam, I know you’re going to have me a moaning, whining, begging mess. I know what that’s going to do to you…”

“Gabe,” Sam groaned, turning his face into the other’s neck, fumbling fingers trying their damnedest to deal with the zipper on his jeans. Gabriel shivered at the puff of hot air against his skin, his own fingers sure and steady pulling on the tab of Sam’s own zipper.

“You’ll get all possessive and give me exactly what I want,” he slipped his hand into the opening, the heat of his palm even more tantalising through the thin material of Sam’s boxers. “Pull me in and fuck into me so good…” he purred, his free hand pushing at Sam’s shoulder to push him up and back, their mouths coming together in open, dirty kisses. “So, yeah, I want you bad.”

Sam’s expectations for the day had not held any of this. Absolutely none of it. He never planned to have Gabriel jump him, it just sort of happened, and yeah, he thought, maybe he should be just a little bit ashamed at the moment, surrounded by what were essentially his co-workers, but the way Gabriel was pawing at him, wiggling his own hips to shimmy his jeans down, didn’t really leave any room for him to feel much beyond lust and want and a scary amount of love for the cheeky angel. He forced his hands back into the game, gripping the belt loops of Gabriel’s jeans, tugging them down, aided by Gabriel lifting himself from the counter top, not without a quiet, self-satisfied chuckle. That was hardly a surprise, given the fact that Sam found himself confronted with absolutely nothing else in the way. Gabriel hissed through his teeth as the denim dragged over his cock, his blunt nails digging into the back of Sam’s jacket for a split second. Two dull thuds signalled that he’d managed to kick his shoes off amidst everything else.

Sam rolled his eyes, if not without a small smile, stepping out of the tight circle of Gabriel’s arms to tug his jeans off, dropping them on the floor before he stepped back in, running his palms from the bend of Gabriel’s knees to his hips, nipping at the other’s mouth. “You’re a dick,” he muttered, one hand fisting around Gabriel’s cock and stroking. The archangel purred, his hips jerking forward, one shoulder shrugging loosely.

“And yet, you shacked up with me,” he brought both hands up again, tangling them in Sam’s hair, twisting the thick locks around his fingers, holding Sam still, forehead to forehead. “Something tells me you like that I’m a dick.” He bit down on his lower lip, trapping a groan behind his teeth, eyelids fluttering while Sam dragged the pad of his thumb through the precum gathered on the head of his dick. “You gonna keep teasing, or are you gonna fuck me already, Sammy?”

The small huff of laughter that came out of him was unavoidable. There, again, was something Sam loved about Gabriel, that he never knew would draw him in so completely; his never-ending enthusiasm, his mouth, the way they both knew this was just a quickie – and the fact that even a ‘quickie’ meant something in the grand scheme of the relationship they’d found themselves tied up in, with no hope for easy release.

“I guess I should indulge you,” Sam conceded, stilling his hands and moving back just enough to help manoeuvre Gabriel into the position he wanted him. “You did come in here and ask really nicely for it.”

Gabriel scoffed, twisting on the counter and rising up onto his knees, hands braced on the wall. “I didn’t come here to ask for it, Sam,” he hummed, back arching just slightly while Sam worked a pre-cum slicked finger into him. “You were maybe two minutes from getting on your knees and praying to me.”

Sam laughed, leaning forward while he worked his index finger in and out of the other, lining up his second finger to stretch him wider. It wasn’t the slickest prep job, but Gabriel would be complaining soon enough that Sam couldn’t break him, and to just get on with the show. “No, I was maybe two minutes from forgetting about it and going back to work – you came along and ruined that plan. I was just going to hang onto it until I got home.”

Gabriel sighed, a smile on his lips, his hips rocking back against Sam’s fingers while they bantered. “You just love to torture yourself, don’t you? It’s a good thing I love you. I could have let you sit in there for a few more hours and suffer, but, nope. Saint that I am, I came down here to help you out.”

“Help me out?” Sam repeated, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline.

“Oh yeah,” Gabriel breathed, leaving Sam unsure for a second if it was a reply or a response to the press and stretch of his three fingers inside him now. “Isn’t recess supposed to be fun?” He tossed a look over his shoulder to Sam, his own eyebrows raised questioningly. “Besides, if this doesn’t wear you out? When you get home we’ll lock the bedroom door and I’ll work out all the kinks for you, how’s that?”

“We’re going to just have sex all night?”

“Well, I guess we could stop so you can eat and do all those human things,” Gabriel replied, shrugging a shoulder. “Think of it as positive reinforcement for winning your case.”

“I haven’t won yet,” Sam pointed out, sliding his fingers out of Gabriel. The other groaned, fingers flexing against the wall.

“No, but I have all the faith in the world in you, kiddo,” he answered simply. “Please tell me you’re going to get on with it? If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to turn time back on and all your colleagues are going to see you tenting in your pants behind some strange naked guy.” Sam didn’t miss the smirk he was shot, looking up from undoing his belt, popping his button and slipping himself loose. “Don’t think I wouldn’t, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes, pressing in behind Gabriel, pulling him gently into position. Gabriel was nothing short of, well, a sexual vision catering to all of Sam’s needs. Naked except for the socks neither of them had heeded, kneeling on Sam’s plaid shirt, hair just this side of mussed, hard, eyes dark and mouth smirking. Sam dragged a hand over himself, smearing precum down his length, and met those eyes, returning a smirk of his own.

“I know you would. You’re just a dick like that,” he agreed. Gabriel shrugged again, moving his knees to the edge of the counter, back arched to perfectly line himself up for Sam, his calves spread on either side of the Winchester. Sam pressed forward, one hand curling fingers around Gabriel’s ankle, the other holding his hip steady. “Just, try to hold it for a few more minutes? I don’t want to have to stop,” and with that he pushed his hips forward, pressing into Gabriel, inching past the tight ring of muscle. Gabriel’s head dropped between his shoulders, a breath whooshing out of him while Sam pushed forward, deliberately slow.

“You’re not going to break me, Sam,” he sing-songed, voice just barely above a whisper, like they were both treating this like some kind of serious moment that any louder tones would interrupt and sully. Just as Sam had expected. “Really, you should know this by now.”

“I know, very well,” Sam answered, moving his hand from Gabriel’s hip to his other ankle as he bottomed out, his hips pressed the Gabriel’s ass. “I just like torturing you.”

Gabriel raised a hand in warning, the tips of his middle finger and thumb pressed together as if to snap them and put an end to the comfortable space they had. The smirk on his face said it was nothing more than an empty threat, but it didn’t stop Sam from sighing grandly, pulling his hips back, and canting them forward, back into Gabriel. The archangel rocked forward, his hand slapping back to the wall, and groaned appreciatively. “There we go.”

Sam shook his head, smiling to himself, pulling back and starting a rhythm, rocking in and out of Gabriel quick and hard, hands clasped around the other’s ankles, keeping him more or less in place.

Damn if it wasn’t hot. Gabriel’s fingers were flexing against the charcoal gray walls, blunt nails scratching on the paint, his back and shoulder muscles rippling under the skin while he pushed back onto Sam as best he could in the position he was being held. His back was arched, a perfect dip in the small of it, just like Sam had pictured in his head. The best part of all of it though, was how Gabriel was looking back at him, looking him over, mouth hanging open just a bit. His eyes were roving from where Sam was pistoning into him, up his chest to his face. They caught each other’s eyes, Sam’s teeth dragging over his lower lip, shaking in his rhythm for a second at the loose, indulgent smirk Gabriel shot him.

It was the low, shaky moan though, that did it. Holding his gaze, the spark of mischief flashing in his eyes, Gabriel bit his lip, and then let loose, moaning Sam’s name, drawing it out, the volume of his voice wavering with each thrust Sam made. Sam clenched his jaw, fingers tightening on Gabriel’s ankles, doing his damnedest not to show just how perfectly that moan was drawing him in. Gabriel knew, regardless. Sex wasn’t just sex for them, anymore. It was playful, it was fun, it was comfortable, and it drew on every emotion that they felt. It was a part of their relationship that was as open as any other, and it was just as free a place for them to egg each other on, to dare each other to give more, to open themselves up to take more. They laughed, and smiled, and moaned and whimpered, and all of that, and it was good. It was great. So, Gabriel knew, regardless, that Sam was loving listening to Gabriel be vocal, and Sam knew that Gabriel wasn’t just being vocal to mess with him – Gabriel wouldn’t be vocal if he didn’t feel it was good enough for him to be.

And he didn’t stop either.

“Oh, yeah, Sam,” he dropped his head again, hands balled into fists against the wall. “Harder,” he gasped, lifted his head, not looking at Sam, but the wall. Who was Sam to ignore a request like that? He canted his hips forward and up, more force behind each thrust, and found himself groaning along with Gabriel as the angel slumped against the wall a bit, head turned enough that Sam could see the lazy grin on his face.

Gabriel was tight, and warm, and what he couldn’t manage in thrusting himself back he was managing with swivelling his hips, forcing Sam to keep up with him. Gabriel always did have a control issue, needing to be leading in some small way, even if it was just in the rotation of his hips that dictated how Sam moved. Rather than annoying, that, more than anything, was a turn-on for Sam, that Gabriel didn’t take it all submissive and passive, and was actively moving against him, challenging him.

“Come on, kiddo.”

Then there was that.

Oh, yeah, there was probably something psychologically concerning about the fact that Gabriel calling him ‘kiddo’ in a husky, drawn out, sexed up purr pulled such a quick reaction out of him. A therapist would probably have a field day with that. Gabriel himself had teased him with it before, but despite all that, and despite how amusing it was to him, he used it liberally, because of the way it affected Sam.

Sam pushed a knee up on the counter next to Gabriel’s, pushing his leg further down the ledge, forcing him to open up more. Gabriel went willingly, biting down an obvious whimper at the change of angle and the increase of force and speed that Sam was applying. “Just, just like that, there you go, kiddo, come on, come on…”

Something in Sam’s restraint broke, there, at the semi-broken whines Gabriel was making, and he let go of Gabriel’s ankles, hands sliding around his front, pulling the other back against his clothed chest, one spread over his belly, the other fisting around his cock and pulling in quick strokes in time with his thrusts. The counter was just low enough to give them the perfect position, and Gabriel pushed and pumped himself back down onto Sam even as his head tipped back onto the taller man’s shoulder, one hand reaching back to tug and pull at Sam’s hair. “Damn, you don’t play fair, Sammy,” he hissed out between small moans.

“You’re one to talk,” Sam groaned against his shoulder, brushing his thumb over the head of Gabriel’s dick. Gabriel’s breath hitched, and Sam stifled another groan against his shoulder, hips pistoning up and in without any semblance of a rhythm or pattern, his belly tightening with the promise of his orgasm. Two more thrusts, and Gabriel was tightening around him, making a low keening sound between his teeth, and coming hot all over Sam’s hand and Sam’s shirt, abandoned on the countertop.

Sam turned his face into Gabriel’s hair, rocking into him through his orgasm, his own building, building, until he was gasping, puffing moans into the short curly hair behind Gabriel’s ear, coming into him hot and hard. Gabriel’s fingers in his hair were stroking and clutching and tugging, a litany of Sam’s name on his lips, laced through with the hint of a laugh, pulling him through his release like only Gabriel could.

They slumped forward as one, Gabriel resting his forehead on crossed arms against the wall, his back shivering with silent laughter, Sam curved over him, one knee still bent between the archangel’s, fighting to catch his breath against Gabriel’s shoulder.

“See?” Gabriel asked conversationally. “Aren’t you glad I came by?”

Sam huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back to slowly pull out, relishing in the low groan it pulled from Gabriel. “Just a little bit. That wasn’t so bad.”

“Wasn’t so bad, he says,” Gabriel griped, tucking his knees in and sitting back on his calves, head tipped back, eyes closed softly. “Just a little bit, he says.”

Sam chuckled, reaching past Gabriel to grab his shirt, cleaning himself up with one of the cleaner parts before tucking himself back in his pants. “Can’t go and tell you it was mind-blowing and hot as hell, your ego might inflate too much and then your head will finally explode.” He dropped his shirt in Gabriel’s lap, having wiped himself clean. “That needs to go in the wash when you get home.”

Gabriel laughed outright, turning on the counter and making a reaching motion towards his jeans. Sam bent and grabbed them, passing them to the smaller man. “What, you don’t relish the idea of walking around in a shirt covered in my jizz? Kiddo,” he purred, smirking at the look Sam shot him. “I’m hurt.”

“Yeah, no, not really. People might ask questions,” Sam shot back, waiting while Gabriel hopped off the counter to tug his jeans up and fastened. He snapped his fingers, Sam’s shirt in his other hand suddenly dry and clean.

“Good enough,” he said with a shrug, pulling it on, tugging the sides together to do it up, smiling lazily up at Sam. “Have a good afternoon. I’ll see you at home later?”

Sam nodded, leaning down to give Gabriel the slow, languid kiss he clearly wanted but wasn’t outright asking for. Gabriel hummed, smoothing his hands over Sam’s jacket when the other drew back.

“I can’t believe you just fucked me, in your suit, in the middle of the courthouse,” he shot Sam a wink and a smirk, and with a snap was gone, along with any trace of what they’d done, and the other lawyers and court workers were back to milling around him, none the wiser to what had just happened with them standing right there, unknowing.

Sam flushed, looking up at the clock on the wall, its second hand ticking away again, and walked back over to the bench where he’d left his papers and briefcase. Gabriel had been right, recess was supposed to be fun, and it sure had been.


End file.
